Back To Where We Started
by Hyper4Hetalia
Summary: Shizuo dies of lung cancer, and Izaya kills himself shortly after (once realizing too late that he is in love with him). Upon entering Heaven, Shizuo is informed by Izaya's guardian angel that Izaya's soul was sent to Hell. The angel tells Shizuo that he will turn back time and give Shizuo another chance at life, but only if he can make Izaya a better person. Rating may go up.
1. Prologue

_This fanfiction is dedicated to Bekah._

**Prologue.**

The sight of Shizuo Heiwajima dying was easily the most nauseating thing Izaya Orihara had ever laid eyes on. Nor was it something he had ever imagined himself witnessing. No matter what he had tried in the past, Izaya had always been fairly certain that Shizuo was invincible; the first day they met, Izaya had watched the man get up and walk away after being run over by a _truck_. Shizuo wasn't human, he was a monster that kept coming back stronger and stronger each time you thought he was down, and that's what made him so exciting. No matter how many times Izaya tested that he never truly believed that he would be able to kill Shizuo Heiwajima, and if _he_ couldn't then what could?

The answer was cancer.

The irony of Shizuo's downfall would have made Izaya laugh if he hadn't felt so sick. Shizuo, who could walk away from being hit by a truck as though nothing had happened, or who thought he had 'tripped' when in reality he had been shot several times, was going to die from a disease. Izaya had stolen the ex-bartender's file from the nurse's station on his way in, to educate himself on what exactly had beaten him in the race to kill his monster.

Shizuo had extensive-stage lung cancer, which meant that the cancer in his lungs (which was undoubtedly a result of his smoking habit) had spread to the rest of his body. At this point getting any sort of transplant was futile, they hadn't caught the cancer quickly enough. All the hospital could do at this point was make sure Shizuo was comfortable until his time came.

And if Shizuo's physical appearance was any indication, it didn't look like he had long. The fake-blonde was tucked neatly into a hospital bed, several monitors running at once and numerous IVs running into his arm. His skin was ashen and the texture like candle wax, and his chest rose faintly even though each breath was heavy and labored. His over-processed blonde hair had begun to thin due to the chemotherapy the doctor's had given him in an attempt to delay his death, and something about it made him look ten years older than he actually was.

It was pitiful, and the most tragic thing Izaya had ever seen. When Izaya heard the rumors that Shizuo was dying he had hardly thought anything of it; in fact, he had actually been extremely amused. Silly rumors like that, especially pertaining to his Shizu-chan, floated around all the time; people liked to invent ways to make the 'invincible man' seem not-so-invincible. Still, Izaya had called up Kadota just to make sure (as an information broker it was his job to know everything, after all) and he had honestly be stunned speechless to hear that everything he had heard was true.

Kadota had heard it from Tom. He and Shizuo had been making their usual debt-collecting rounds when out of nowhere Shizuo apparently collapsed in a hacking, sputtering mess, retching blood onto the pavement. Tom had said that Shizuo had been coughing a lot that whole week and hadn't really thought much of it after the ex-bartender passed it off as "a cold or somethin'." Knowing Shizuo and his level of intelligence that probably is what he thought as well. Too bad his symptoms hadn't shown up sooner, than maybe he would have more time to live.

Despite what Kadota said, the news was so outlandish that there was no way Izaya could believe it unless he went saw it for himself. So he had set out for the hospital, and now he was here. And even as he read the file he had snagged with Shizuo's name on it he _still_ refused to believe that this was really happening, that Shizuo Heiwajima was dying... until he saw him lying in that hospital bed, looking like death was knocking on his door.

Shizuo didn't look like he was awake, and if it weren't for the slow beeps on the monitor next to his bed, the unnatural stillness of blonde's body would have been enough to convince Izaya that he was already dead. The informant approached the bed slowly, sweating under the furry collar of his coat despite the cold chills running up and down his spine. He almost tripped and fumbled to find the arm-rest of a chair next to the slumbering beast, his entire body collapsing into it.

Izaya leaned forward, his heart feeling heavy as stone as it threw itself full-force against his ribcage. The hand that wasn't desperately clinging to the arm-rest for support reached out and poked Shizuo's cheek instead. The skin was icy and unpleasant, and it made Izaya recoil. Shizuo felt like a corpse.

"Ne, Shizu-chan better not be dead yet," He found himself say in his usual light, airy tone, despite the emotions that ravaged him on the inside. "Not until I get to say my goodbyes."

"What do you want, flea?" The voice was quiet and hoarse but distinctively Shizuo's. The ex-bartender's eyes still not open yet, Izaya hadn't expected the words to come out of his mouth.

The informant jumped several inches out of his chair, hand clutching the spot over his chest where his heart was trying desperately to escape. "Shizu-chan, you startled me!" He exclaimed as he settled back into his seat, careful to keep his expression casual and grinning like always. "I really thought you were dead for a minute there!"

The blonde's eyelids were struggling to open with a sleepy, sluggish slowness. "Not yet." He said in a wheezy, heart-breakingly weak voice. Weak. Shizuo Heiwajima sounded... _weak_. "Why do you want, Izaya?"

The informant swallowed past a lump in his throat that he hadn't felt before. 'Not yet'. Shizuo had said it himself, had resigned himself to his fate... his Shizu-chan was going to die, by something out of both their control. It just wasn't acceptable; Izaya was always in control. He almost felt... envious of whatever was doing this to Shizuo; Shizuo was his, and he was only permitted to die by Izaya's own hand.

That's it. If the cancer was going to try and kill Shizuo, then all Izaya had to do was kill the monster himself before the disease had the chance! In an instant the informant's favorite knife was in his hand, the blade out and glistening and pressed up against the waxy skin of the dying man's throat. "I'm here to kill you of course, Shizu-chan~" He said in a whimsical tone, his maroon eyes flashing as brightly as his weapon. "Today is finally the day I take your life. You can think of me as your personal grim reaper, since your time is running out as it is~" The informant let out a bubble of amused laughter which dissolved into hysterical snickers.

All Shizuo did in response was stare at him with sleepy, glassy eyes. Izaya had never been this close to them before, nor had he ever noticed how they were really a more of a golden color rather than brown. But the lack of expression on Shizuo's face was pissing him off, and the blade was trembling ever-so-slightly in Izaya's hand. After a moment Shizuo's eyes closed, a painful sounding sigh passing through his lips. "Can you make it happen fast?" He asked in a dignified tone, despite the frailty of his voice. "I don't like this whole 'dying slowly' thing."

Izaya was frozen for a moment, then the knife slipped out of his grasp and clattered onto the floor. No. This wasn't his Shizu-chan... his Shizu-chan would _never_ let himself be killed by him. "No." Izaya leaned back in his chair to put some distance between himself and the monster, shaking his head. "That's not like my Shizu-chan."

Shizuo stared tiredly back at him in silence. Izaya rose out of his chair in an instant so that he towered threateningly over the dying man, and he brought his fists down angerly upon his chest. "This isn't how it works!" He shouted, his voice unsteady and bordering on hysterical. "I threaten you and you try to attack me! What's wrong with you?!"

Shizuo's eyelids closed and Izaya was stunned by the length of his eyelashes, something he had never noticed before; it was nice that they hadn't fallen out because of the chemotherapy. "I'm dying, Izaya." He said with heart-wrenching resolve. "There's nothing that can stop it and its happening so slowly and it _hurts_. You'd be doing me a favor if you just ended me now."

Nausea boiled in the pit of Izaya's stomach and he was forced to swallow back the bile raising in his throat. The weak, defeated man laying in the hospital bed was not the Shizu-chan he loved to hate... he was so pathetic that he was sickened at the mere sight of him. "If I would be doing you a favor then I won't kill you." He said in a cold tone that he was struggling to make sound even.

Shizuo didn't show much of a response to the news so Izaya kept talking, moving about the room touching things and flicking switches because it felt uncomfortable to stand still. "This is such a dreary way to die, Shizu-chan; there's no windows in this room and everything smells like hand sanitizer. No one even brought you any flowers or balloons. Doesn't seem like you've had any visitors, either."

"Simon was here. He started crying though and he demanded that the doctors fix me so they made him leave." Izaya's back was turned as he listened to Shizuo's weak words, so he dared a small smile; that was so like their big black Russian friend. "Kadota and his crew and Tom offered to stop by, but I don't like goodbyes so I told them not too. Celty and Shinra are in Ireland still looking for Celty's head, I told them not to fly back just for my sake. And Kasuka is in Australia or New Zealand or somethin' shooting a movie and he can't make it back."

The smile fell away from Izaya's lips. It honestly was a miserable way to die, with no friends or family there to make his final moments not so bad. It was the kind of lonely death Izaya had always pictured for himself, not someone like Shizuo who had friends and family that cared about him. The raven-haired man couldn't even think of anything nasty to say at this point to bring Shizuo down because honestly, he couldn't get any more pathetic than this.

"Besides," Shizuo continued, even weaker this time and so softly that Izaya had to strain just to hear him. "You're here. I guess I always knew your face would be the last one I ever saw... I just never thought it'd be like this."

It wasn't until that moment that Izaya realized that the little blips on the monitor that were tracking Shizuo's heartbeat had begun to slow down. In an instant he had whirled around and was back at the blonde's bedside, his hands grasping Shizuo's hand out of some sort of instinct. In all the years they had known each other it was the first time their hands had ever touched, and it was colder than Izaya had ever imagined; Shizuo had always seemed like the kind of guy who would have warm skin all the time, this just felt wrong.

"Shizu-chan, what are you doing?" He asked in a voice that sounded desperate and panicked and so unlike himself. "Shizu-chan, you better not be dying...!"

The ex-bartender opened his eyes half-way, his lips twitching at the corners in the first genuine sort-of smile he had ever aimed his way; it was more tragically beautiful than Izaya felt comfortable realizing, and it made his heart lurch painfully in his chest. "I'm kind of glad you're here, flea." His voice was barely a whisper as his eyelids fell closed again. "Its nice to see a look on your face other than that usual smug smirk..."

Something was stinging Izaya's eyes. Tears? No, impossible. Izaya had never cried once in his life. But then what was this moisture running down his cheeks? Whatever it was, at least Shizuo's eyes were closed and he wasn't able to see. "Don't die, Shizu-chan." The words came out before Izaya had any chance of stopping them. "You can't... I.. never planned for this." His hands tightened around his enemy's. "What will I do without my monster?"

The question wasn't rhetorical, and Izaya was desperate for an answer. If Shizuo was leaving him, then he at least owed him some advice on how to go on without him. But the monitor next to Shizuo's bed flat-lined before a reply ever came, and Izaya sat frozen in horror listening to the long, irritable sound that announced the end of Shizuo's struggle to cling to life.

After that moment time became indefinite. No doctors or nurses rushed in in an attempt to revive Shizuo, probably because they knew it was futile. Izaya continued to cling to Shizuo's cold hand, more hot moisture pouring down his face in disgustingly large quantities. Short, hideous gasping sounds were being made in the back of his throat and his nasal cavity, but he was only partially aware of them. Everything was drowned out by the realization that had only hit him when it was too late: Shizuo Heiwajima was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

It was a strange thing to think about someone he had contemplated killing so many times, but the truth of it hit him like a stop sign to the face. Shizuo was exciting and impulsive and unpredictable and never boring. He was so unlike any human Izaya had ever encountered, so different that he had doubted many times if Shizuo was even human at all. Shizuo was the person Izaya had woken up every morning hoping to see ever day since the day they met. How could he go through every day for the rest of his life without constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure a vending machine wasn't about to be hurled at him, or feeling his heart race at the slightest smell of smoke? How was he supposed to live without him?

The answer came very simply: he wasn't. Shizuo was a perfect foil of himself, there would never be anyone else like him; everyone knows that you simply cannot have yin without yang. Besides, it wasn't as though he was leaving anything behind; his precious humans would get on without him just as they had before his birth, Shinra had Celty, and his sister's would undoubtedly care less. He could die now, alongside he beloved monster, and the world would hardly notice his absence.

Feeling suddenly calm, Izaya rose from his seat. He found extra needles in a drawer and in no time had himself hooked up to Shizuo's IV; he didn't know what sort of medicine it was, but enough of anything could kill him. He located the pump that administered doses of the medicine into his bloodstream and clutched it in his shaking palm. Izaya crawled into the bed next to Shizuo and draped his arm across his waist, leaning his cheek on his chest. It was saddening that he couldn't hear the blonde's heart racing due to their close proximity, or feel any warmth radiating off of his skin. Not only that, but this snuggled-up position was the most intimate Izaya had ever gotten with a human, and this was with a corpse.

"Heh... in the end, I'm even more pathetic than you, Shizu-chan." Izaya whispered, beads of hot moisture beginning to roll down his face once more. He craned his neck and pressed a kiss to the dead man's cheek, his lips lingering close to his ear so that he could whisper, "I guess this means you win."

And then he settled himself back on Shizuo's chest, closing his eyes as he squeezed the pump in his palm. His other hand sought out Shizuo's and interlaced their fingers, gripping tight as fog filled his mind. Moments later Izaya Orihara passed away peacefully, as easily as falling asleep, happier than he could ever remember being, because he was in the arms of the man he hadn't realized he loved until it was too late.

.

**A/N:**

**This took a while to write, wow. I honestly had to take breaks in between because I was getting really depressed. I promise that the rest of the story will not be this sad, but I hope the prologue was enough to draw your interest and hopefully you will continue reading. If you guys enjoyed the prologue, please let me know by leaving a review. Pretty please? With a Shizu-chan on top? (*snickers* Shizuo is _always _on top)**

**Just wanted to mention, I got the title from a set of lyrics from the song "Alone" by Eyeshine. For those of you who don't know, Eyeshine is Johnny Yong Bosch (Izaya's English Voice Actor)'s band, and they're really good. You should definitely check out the song if you have the time.**

**By the way, if anyone is interested, I have an Instagram and its a lot easier to get in touch with me via that rather than on this site. My screenname is Hyper4Hetalia so say hi if you want! I cosplay Shizuo so I have a lot of Shizaya on my account~ I also have a youtube channel that has some Shizaya cosplay videos up. We're called HiddenKumaCosplay and you can find us at youtube channel/UC6CWDu_t-4wPVZS2wW9sg0Q**

*_Just want to add that I have little to no medical knowledge. Anything medicine-related was researched on WebMD or I saw it on House. If something bothers you because its not accurate, don't worry- there won't be any more hospitals or doctors in this fanfiction._


	2. Chapter 1

The first thing Shizuo became aware of was that he was able to breathe normally again. It had been so difficult when he was in the hospital, like sucking all of his oxygen in through a straw. Now, Shizuo could breathe so effortlessly that he figured the entire cancer crisis must have simply been one long, extremely vivid dream. He felt more relaxed than he had in ages, and he was perfectly content to just lie in bed for the rest of the day and do absolutely _nothing._

Well, he would be, if it weren't for Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" being played loudly in his ear.

Shizuo's irritation spiked immediately. Goddammit he hated that song; whoever gave that girl a recording contract deserved a vending machine right to the face. Her pitch was painful and her diction was more slurred than Shinra after a few too many glasses of sake. The ex-bartender reached for his pillow with every intention of using it to drown out the God-forsaken singing, only to find as he groped around blindly that there wasn't a pillow beneath his head. Now that he thought about it, whatever surface he was laying on definitely wasn't his mattress, either.

"Yo, buddy, you awake yet?" A voice said loudly from a short distance away. Shizuo felt a hand on his knee, shaking him into opening his eyes. "Time to get up; we're here."

Shizuo squinted as his eyes adjusted to a sudden brightness he hadn't been expecting, turning his head from side-to-side in a sort of sleepy confusion as he took in his surroundings. He was inside of a taxi, stretched out along the back seat with his head resting on the speaker (well, that at least explained the terrible music). "Where am I?" He asked, running a hand through his hair as he sat up.

The man whom had spoken before was the cab driver, dressed entirely in white and surprisingly well-groomed for someone in his line of business. "You'll find out soon enough." He said, gesturing toward the door with his thumb. "Now get outta 'ere."

Shizuo reached for the door handle, then stopped and reached into his pocket for his wallet instead. "How much do I owe you?" He asked, still feeling disoriented. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken a taxi, and he couldn't believe that he would ever have fallen asleep in one.

The driver let out a wheezy chuckle, shaking his round face. "Don't worry about it, this one's on me." He said and laughed again, like it was some sort of joke Shizuo wouldn't understand.

He _didn't_ understand, but he also didn't care enough to find out what the driver thought was so funny. "Well, thanks I guess." He said as he opened the door, stepping out into the noise of the city.

As soon as he was out the taxi drove off, and Shizuo turned his head from side to side, looking for some indication as to where he had been dropped off. Having lived in Ikebukuro for so long, Shizuo knew the city like the back of his hand; he knew right away that wherever he was, it wasn't Ikebukuro. At first glance it was a typical city with neon lights, huge signs, and buildings that seemed to stretch on endlessly toward the sky. At closer look, though, there were several things distinctly different: For one thing, there was no graffiti anywhere. The buildings were shining and polished as though every single one of them was brand new. There was no trash on the ground, and the sky was clear and the air as clean as though there was absolutely no pollution. How was that even possible?

"Shizuo,"

The blonde turned around at the sound of his own name, eyes widening when he came face to face with... himself? No, not himself, but someone who looked exactly like him. The only difference in their appearances was that this guy (whoever he was) had startling neon pink eyes that matched the pin-striped shirt he wore underneath a pure white jacket. The man also wore a strange-looking pair of white and pink headphones, and his expression was much more at ease than Shizuo's was at the moment.

"Its nice to finally meet you." the man continued, bowing politely to him. "My name is Delic. I'm your guardian angel."

Shizuo stared back at him incredulously. Guardian angel? Was this guy insane?

He opened his mouth to ask the stranger just that when the so-called Delic beat him to it. "Look, I know it must be a lot to take in- dying, going to Heaven, meeting your guardian angel and all -but I assure you I'm not making this up. Just look around if you don't believe me."

Shizuo narrowed his eyes and turned his head from side to side, focusing more on the crowds of people that surrounded him this time rather than the buildings. He hadn't noticed before when he was still trying to get a baring on his location, but the masses of people around him didn't behave the way they did in Ikebukuro. No one seemed like they were in any kind of rush, no one pushed passed each other or swore when they were accidentally hit with an elbow; everyone seemed so unbelievably content with their leisurely pace that it was enough to make Shizuo feel like he was in some episode of The Twilight Zone. Furthermore, for every person there was another who looked exactly like them- same gender, same age, same height, weight, hair color. The only difference was the eyes, always a bright neon pink that matched the variations of outfits all following the same white and pink color scheme. All of the pink-eyed clones (or 'guardian angels', Shizuo assumed) wore a pair of wireless headphones that completely covered their entire ears, though none of them seemed like they were listening to any music.

Shizuo turned his eyes back to Delic, doing what he could to process what had been said, what was happening, and what this all meant. "So... I'm really dead?" He asked. He could remember everything up to his last breath, but the last few weeks of his life felt so much like a dream that he almost wasn't sure that they had really happened.

Delic nodded his head, reaching out to rest a hand on the ex-bartender's shoulder. "That's the bad news," He said with a relaxed smile.

"So there's good news?" Shizuo raised an eyebrow skeptically. He couldn't see any kind of silver-lining here. He was dead, virtually alone in a strange place, and everyone he knew was still back in Ikebukuro with a long life ahead of them.

Delic rolled his eyes, shaking his head with an exasperated sigh. "Of course there's good news," He said, squeezing his shoulder. "You're in _Heaven_."

"Oh yeah.." Shizuo tipped his head back, staring up at all of the buildings and flashy neon signs. "I honestly never believed this place really existed, or even if it did that I would be good enough to get here." He sighed and put his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "Aren't there supposed to be golden gates or somethin'? And little clouds for everyone to sit on?"

"We remodeled." Delic shrugged, taking a few steps back and motioning for Shizuo to follow as he began walking. "This is the main city, where everyone arrives when they first enter Heaven. The cab drivers that bring in the souls is the closest thing we have to angels of death or grim reapers or whatever you want to call them; they collect souls on earth and take them back to the main city where everyone's personal guardian angel waits to meet them when they arrive." He cast a side-long glance at Shizuo to make sure he was comprehending, then continued. "Heaven is infinite. You aren't confined to the main city, you can go anywhere you'd like. You could even dream up your own place to spend eternity, like on a tropical island away from everyone or even a cloud if that's what your heart is really set on. Food and drink, technology, material items and literally any luxury you could ever imagine are available to you at any moment in time. We do have stores, even so, because even though we have no form of currency people still enjoy getting out once in a while and finding an excuse to meet new souls. We also have restaurants, bars, arcades, zoos, libraries, amusement parks- anything that can be found on earth can be found here. We even got the seventh Harry Potter book two months before it was published, the Boss just couldn't wait to find out the ending. You'll definitely like it here, they don't call it paradise for nothing."

Shizuo's eyebrows were furrowed the whole time as he attempted to take in every word the chatty angel was throwing at him, in addition to actually _believing _if this all was really happening. Meanwhile as they were walking Delic had led him into what looked like a small apartment building and up a flight of stairs, opening the door and gesturing Shizuo inside.

The decor was simple in a tasteful, elegant way, although it followed the same white-and-neon-pink-with-black-accents color scheme that Shizuo was already getting tired of. In the middle of the room was a couch, and on that couch was a bundle of white fur and fabric that occasionally trembled and made soft, shuddering sobbing sounds. Whoever it was, their back was turned to Shizuo and the hood they were wearing disguised any hair color, even the jacket completely covered their small frame when curled up in the fetal-position, making it difficult to tell whether it was even a man or a woman.

Delic sighed softly at the sight, giving Shizuo a 'one moment, please' gesture before approaching the couch and kneeling next to whomever was crying. "Psyche," He said gently, brushing back the hood and tenderly combing his fingers through short black hair.. "Shizuo's here. You'll have to stop crying if you want to talk to him."

There came a few more sniffles from the curled up figure and then the head turned, revealing a face identical to Izaya's.

Or, at least, _almost_ identical. This person's eyes were pink and his expression was a lot more open and wore more emotion than Shizuo had ever seen Izaya have in a lifetime. Tears clung to his eyelashes and spilled over his cheeks, and his lips trembled at the corners. The sight of Shizuo didn't seem to help whatever had been making him cry in the first place, for he quickly let out a large sob and reached out to cling onto Delic's neck, hiding his face against his shoulder.

Delic sighed, giving the ex-bartender an apologetic look and motioning for Shizuo to take a seat on the chair opposite him. He shifted himself onto the couch next to his fellow angel, maneuvering him into his lap with the same ease and strength Shizuo possessed. "Hush, Psyche," He scolded gently, smoothing back a row of black bangs and pressing a gentle kiss to the angel's forehead. "All of your crying is making Shizuo uncomfortable."

"I don't care," Psyche said in Izaya's voice, though without the usual snarky undertone. "This is all his fault, anyway."

"You know that's not true," Delic said patiently, petting the smaller angel's dark hair. Psyche responded like a satisfied kitten, curling up in his lap and inclining his head toward the touch in a search for more attention. "Izaya ended up the way he did because of the choices _he_ made; very little of it had anything to do with Shizuo."

"Izaya?" Shizuo repeated, making the very obvious assumption that this Psyche character was the informant's guardian angel. "What happened to Izaya?"

The dark-haired angel turned a venomous glare on the ex-bartender, twisting his body around and springing out of Delic's lap. "HE'S DEAD AND HE'S IN HELL AND ITS ALL YOUR FAULT!" He shouted so loudly that his face turned red, pointing an accusing, trembling finger.

Shizuo was a little taken-aback by the shouting, but the hysterical angel was hardly intimidating. What's the worst he could do, anyway? Its not like he could kill-... Hold on a second. "Did you just say Izaya's dead?" He asked.

Psyche dropped his hand and took a deep breathing, looking like he was about to start sobbing again. "He killed himself," He said after a long pause where he struggled to compose himself.

Shizuo sat silently in shock, taking in what he had been told and trying to decide if he even believed it. Could angels lie? Lying is a sin, right? Even if they could lie, what reason would they have for lying to a dead man? Psyche had nothing to gain from this, and his tears seemed pretty real. But the fact that _Izaya Orihara _of all people had killed himself was just a little hard to believe. Izaya was the kind of guy who tricked _other people_ into killing themselves and then made fun of them for it later. What would make him do something like this to himself? "So... how is this my fault?" He asked, even though something made him nervous to hear the answer.

"Its not," Delic interjected quickly, his face never losing its calm expression. "Psyche is only blaming you because your death seemed to trigger Izaya into doing it. It wasn't anything you could help."

"Yes it was!" Psyche wailed in protest, waving his arms. "Stop sticking up for him, Delic! Its Shizuo's fault for getting cancer because he's the one who started smoking, therefore its his fault he died and his fault that Izaya killed himself!"

Shizuo contemplated pointing out that the stress of having Izaya in his life was one of the reasons he started smoking, but decided that it probably wouldn't do anything to improve Psyche's attitude towards him. "If you're so upset about Izaya dying then why don't you just fly down to Hell or whatever and bring him here?" As much as Shizuo loathed the idea of spending eternity with Izaya, it seemed like the obvious answer to the angel's problems.

The look Psyche gave him this time told Shizuo right away that whatever he had said was apparently very stupid. "Who do you think I am, _Castiel_? Angels just can't raise souls from perdition whenever they feel like it!"

Shizuo didn't have enough time to feel relieved that they aired Supernatural in Heaven because Delic was hastily interjecting. "But there is something _you_ can do, Shizuo, if you're willing to help us."

Now it was the ex-bartender's turn to look incredulous. "Me?" He repeated. "Why in the world would I want to help Izaya? That guy made my life hell, he deserves some of his own now!"

Delic held Psyche back when he tried to lunge for the fake blonde. "Hear me out, Shizuo." He pleaded. "This could benefit you as much as it benefits Izaya."

Shizuo scowled doubtfully but nodded his head anyway. "Alright, I'm listening."

"We can turn back time to as much as a month before you died." His guardian angel told him, releasing Psyche once he had stopped squirming. "We'll even cure you completely of your cancer. All you need to do is find Izaya and get him to change his ways, try to make him a better person so that when he really does die he doesn't have to go to Hell."

Delic was making this sound than it was going to be. Izaya was a sinister, cruel-hearted person and Shizuo doubted that he of all people would be able to change anything in him for the better. Still, if they were giving him another chance to live his life then why shouldn't he at least give it his best shot? It wasn't like he had anything to lose. "What happens if he doesn't change?" He asked after a moment, crossing his arms.

"You have the entire month to try and make a difference in him." Delic explained. "If you haven't accomplished anything by the time the month is out, everything will reset; you'll be sent back here, and Izaya's soul will return to Hell."

So he really didn't have much to lose, but a month wasn't very long at all. Thirty days to make Izaya Orihara a better person? Shizuo doubted it could be done.

Still, he was going to give it his best effort for what it was worth, nodding his head as he rose to his feet. "Alright, I'm in."

"Great!" Delic grinned, and Psyche actually smiled. The blonde angel stood as well, placing a hand on Shizuo's shoulder. "Guess we had better catch you a cab, then."

.

**A/N: Sorry its been so long since I updated!**

**Thanks so much for all of the reviews, favorites and follows. I was really shocked by the enthusiastic response this story received!**

**Please review lots and lots because it really helps with inspiration!**

**Also, this story is probably going to go back and forth between Shizuo and Izaya's point of views, just a head's up.**


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